No, You're a Schmoopy!
by rhombus
Summary: Two men and a baby. Everybody together now: Awwww! Kyle/Oliver baby-fic.


**No, You're a Schmoopy!**

Oliver did _not_ like to see people cry. It managed to break his heart _and_ make him super uncomfortable, all at the same time. On the job, as Officer Fish, he could soldier through the discomfort by concentrating on procedure. In his apartment, as mere old Oliver, watching Gigi Morasco practically sob on his doorstep while she handed over the baby... there was no escaping that.

"Um, you can, you know, come in if you want, Miss, uh, Miss Morasco. Gigi."

"No!" She rubbed the back of her hand against her wet nose. "No, I—I have to go. Shane... Shane's got... a thing, and—and—" She rushed forward to kiss the baby on the forehead, then smoothed back its little patch of blonde hair. "I really have to go now!"

She careened down the hall toward the elevators, snuffling and wailing like a cocker spaniel with a broken tooth.

Oliver called after her, "Wait! You're still his aunt! You can come by... any time..." His voice drifted off in his distraction.

The dramatics had apparently alerted the attention of the baby, who reached up a tiny hand and grabbed at his shirt collar, at the skin of his neck. Oliver looked down at that little face for the first time, and words... thoughts... concerns... they were all a thing of the past. Nothing existed in that moment but that face.

His baby. His boy.

So small in his arms. So fragile. So... unbelievably perfect.

"Shut the door, will ya? You're letting in a draft." Kyle's voice broke through his daze.

"Oh, um, s—sorry." He closed the door and turned toward Kyle, who had just come out of the bathroom and was rubbing a towel through his still-wet hair.

Kyle's mouth dropped. "Is that—?" The towel fell from his limp hand.

Oliver smiled, looking back down at the baby. "Yeah. Gigi just left."

In his periphery, Oliver thought he saw Kyle take a small step forward and then stop in his tracks.

"Wow. That's, uh... that's cool." He heard Kyle clear his throat, followed by footfalls heading toward the couch.

Oliver continued to stare at the baby. _His_ baby. The thought reverberated in his head, surreal and yet oh-so-right. He studied every inch of that face. His big, round eyes... his bright pink lips... the button-nose... miniature ears and fat cheeks...

The baby balled up his fists and squinched his face.

"What's this? What are you doing?" Oliver reached out a finger and gently stroked the baby's scrunched cheek. Then he made the mistake of inhaling. "What's that smell?" He looked around the room before realization struck. "Uh oh. Oh no. No no no. Crap."

He could hear Kyle chuckling—a bit evilly—from the couch. Oliver's shoulders dropped. He bit his lip and turned to Kyle with his best confused-squirrel look. It was his ace in the hole. "Ky-_yul_...?"

Kyle glanced up from his magazine, rolled his eyes, and returned his attention to the page. "There's the diaper bag." He tilted his head toward the door. "Right over there, buddy."

Oliver blew the air out of his cheeks and tried to _not_ breathe through his nose.

"Kyle? Please?"

"Oliver. Take some responsibility here, man."

"But, you—you work in a hospital. You're used to... this."

"So?"

"_Help_ me!"

"Hey, I'm wiping my hands of this. _I_ somehow managed to turn down Stacy and her weird friend when they came after _me_ trolling for seed."

"So did I! When I was sober, at least." Oliver gently laid the baby on the dining room table, stabilizing him by balling up the blankets around his sides. "Wait..." He darted a glance toward Kyle. "Stacy _and_ her friend?"

"Oh yeah. Didn't I tell you?" Kyle's voice was completely neutral. "It was sort of a _'double your pleasure, double your fun'_ situation. Except, you know, _'double the icky, girl parts are gross.'_" Kyle turned his head. "No offense, Layla."

"_Some_ offense, Kyle." Layla closed the front door behind her. She dropped her wet umbrella into the bin by the bookcase. Looking up, she noticed the blanketed bundle on the table and her eyes went wide. "Is that who I think it is?" She rushed to Oliver's side to fuss over the baby.

Oliver laid a grateful hand on her shoulder. "Layla! You'll help me!" He turned to Kyle with his best _'neener-neener'_ expression. "_She'll_ help me, Kyle."

Layla's eyebrows rose. "Help with what, exactly?"

"Wiping the baby's stank ass," Kyle replied, unhelpfully. He flipped another page of the magazine.

Layla turned to Oliver with her hands on her hips. "Nuh uh. What? Just because I'm a woman, I have to do the 'woman's work'?" she said, complete with air-quotes.

"Woah! That's not—I didn't mean... Crap. I'm sorry. For a friend, though?" He scrunched up the right side of his face, knowing for a fact Layla couldn't resist his trademark facial gymnastics. "A little experienced assistance?"

Or maybe she could. She crossed her arms and glowered at him. "Experience? I'm the _younger_ sister, remember? I didn't have to do any of this." She swirled her hand over the giggling baby.

"But you babysat, right?"

"Ten year-olds, Fish. They had their... business in order by then."

All of his options exhausted, Oliver whimpered in frustration. He looked to Kyle one last time with pleading eyes.

Kyle leaned his head against the back of the couch and sighed dramatically. "_Fine._" He put the magazine aside and stood. "I'll _talk_ you through it, but that's as far as I'm willing to go here."

"Ah!" Oliver reached over and pulled him into a big bear hug, rocking him back and forth. "Thank you! Man of my dreams! Love of my life!" He kissed the top of Kyle's head with a loud _mwah!_

"Layin' it on a little thick, aren't we?"

With's Kyle's verbal assistance, Oliver managed to change his first diaper without too much trouble. He sincerely hoped it would get easier the more he got used to it. Or that Kyle would eventually relent to his puppy dog stares and take a more active role in the future.

He and Layla continued to coo over the baby while Kyle shuffled behind them, apparently unsure whether to join in or resume his place on the couch. Finally, he leaned his head in and blew a raspberry right in the baby's face. The baby giggled then seemed to pump his little fist in approval.

"Rocco!" Kyle exclaimed. "Little rock star."

Layla pursed her lips. "Rocco?" She turned to Oliver for confirmation. "You're changing his name?"

Oliver opened his mouth to answer, but Kyle beat him to the punch. "Yeah, you like it?" He grinned and crossed his arms in front of him.

"No—" Oliver cut in, slashing his arms through the air, which elicited another giggle from the baby. "I'm not changing his name. He's still Jacob."

Layla nodded in approval. "Jacob Fish. I like it. What about the middle name? You could change that, right?"

Kyle clapped his hands together. "Certainly hope so. Morasco's a dumb middle name."

Oliver sighed, a smile trying its hardest to sneak out through his lips. He held it back firmly. "Fine. So you'd prefer what?" He arched his brow. "Jacob _Lewis_ Fish?"

Layla cupped her hand over her mouth. "_Awwww!_"

The blush that spread over Kyle's cheeks was a thing of absolute beauty.

Oliver took a deep breath. "Actually, I kind of like that..."

Kyle looked down and scratched his eyebrow. "I still think you should rename him," he mumbled, obviously trying to hide his embarrassment. Or was that... pleasure?

Oliver tenderly lifted the baby off the table and cradled him in his arms again. "I _like_ Jacob."

Kyle shrugged. "Well, _I_ like 'Stone.'"

Oliver, open to the suggestion, played the name in his mind. Then he frowned. "Kyle. You know as well as I do that stonefish are freaky little sea monsters _that kill people!_"

"Yeah. What's your point?" Kyle's face was as blank as a slab of stone.

"That I'm not naming my first born after a disgusting, murderous sea creature."

Kyle looked the baby over. "Suits him."

"Uh huh."

Just then Kyle's phone chirped. He looked down and breathed an overly dramatic sigh of relief. "Oh good. I have to take this. I'll be out in the hall." He waved his hand at the baby dismissively. "Away from this precious little gagfest—I mean, _lovefest_."

Once the door had closed behind him, Layla turned to Oliver, her arms crossed over her chest. "Does he have... a problem with this? Have you guys talked about it?"

Oliver bit his lip, not sure how to answer. "Not, uh, not really. I mean, I didn't know Gigi was bringing him over _today_. I don't even have the—the nursery set up yet."

"You think he's... jealous, maybe?"

Oliver looked toward the ceiling. Sometimes he wished he could read minds. Kyle had _seemed_ okay with the idea of the baby, once he had gotten over his initial shock, but it had been a mistake on Oliver's part to assume too much. To think that Kyle would simply fall in line and not have a dissenting opinion. To hope that if they never talked about it, they'd both just... settle in under the new circumstances. He'd never even asked Kyle how he felt about fatherhood...

He brought his gaze back to Layla.

"Not jealous. I mean, not exactly. I don't know." He turned toward the closed front door. "Maybe it's just... he's feeling a little left out? Like he's not getting the attention he wants?"

Layla tapped her finger on her bottom lip. "Or, maybe, it's that this is something he doesn't know if he's, well... _allowed_ to share with you..."

"I really don't know." Oliver shrugged. He knew Kyle inside and out, yet the man still had the ability to baffle him from time to time.

"Well, I do." Layla grinned. "And I'm thinking we can kill two birds with one stonefish. Hand him over."

Oliver's attention was diverted as Kyle re-entered the apartment. He looked over at them with a furrowed brow, as if he suspected them of nefarious plots, then he shook his head and reached down for his _Surf Pro_ magazine again.

Oliver felt Layla tug at his shirt sleeve.

"Hmm?"

"Just... give him here." Layla gently plucked the wriggling baby from Oliver's arms and walked over to Kyle. "Hey, Kyle. Can you hold him for a second? I need to borrow Fish for a little while."

"Oh, okay." Kyle dropped the magazine and balanced the bundle in his arms, glancing down with a concerned look on his face.

Layla grabbed Oliver's arm and pulled him into her room. Closing the door halfway, she gestured for him to stand behind her. "Look." She pointed through the small opening.

Together, they peeked into the living room and spied on Kyle with the baby.

The concerned look had vanished. His face was calm, peaceful, his attention fully rapt as the smallest smile curled his mouth. The baby, for his part, seemed to feel the same way about Kyle. He stared up at Kyle with an open mouth, his tiny fingers reaching for Kyle's chin.

Layla bumped her shoulder against Oliver's. "I think he's feeling the attention now."

Oliver smiled, his breath caught in his throat at such a sight. "Def—Definitely," he whispered.

"You know," Kyle said, his gaze never leaving the baby, "I _can_ hear you guys."

Oliver stepped out from behind the door and sheepishly shoved his hands in his pockets. "Sorry."

"No worries." Kyle reached up and covertly wiped something from his cheek.

Oliver's heart swelled. For once, it didn't bother him in the least to see someone cry.


End file.
